It Was My Pleasure to Help, Amelia Pond
by AGirlAndHerPen
Summary: Amy has a dark secret. After several close encounters, can the Doctor help her? Or is it too late for his companion? 11/Amy, can be interpreted as friendship or romance. WARNING: CONTAINS DETAILED REFERENCES TO SELF-HARM. IF THIS IS TRIGGERING FOR YOU, STOP, DO NOT PASS GO, DO NOT COLLECT 200, AND DO NOT READ THIS STORY. Enjoy :)


** Alright, I'm soooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry I haven't been updating any of my stories lately! I know it's been forever, but I've lost a lot of my inspiration for my two other stories, so I think I'll be writing mostly one-shots that have crossed my mind and that I need to get on paper.**

** Also, most stories I'll be posting will probably be either really fluffy (when I'm in good moods) or really dark. The dark stuff will be a little more common, because I get a lot of my thoughts and feelings out through writing, and since last year I've been struggling with depression, anxiety, and self-harm, as well as a bit of anorexia nervosa (it wasn't as extreme as my other issues, so I was able to get over it on my own), but for the past however long I've been really limited on what I can do online and such, because my parents have been worried about me and the way that the internet might affect my recovery. But I've been stable for about six months, so I'm allowed to be back now!**

** Another thing you should all know: I WILL BE WRITING FOR CATEGORIES OTHER THAN A&A NOW! This is the first one-shot of many, and I can't guarantee how many of them will be Austin and Ally. The story I'm starting now, as well as another I've been working on, is Doctor Who themed. There may also be Sherlock stories, and possibly Supernatural, as well as the many other fandoms I am a part of: Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, Divergent, The Hunger Games, and many others. Therefore, the topics of all following fanfics will probably vary.**

** For those of you who are still reading and have stuck with me through my long, unplanned hiatus: I love you guys! Thank you to everyone who has supported me on this site, I literally could not thank any of you enough.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, or Matt Smith, or Karen Gillan, or any other person who appears in this story, although I wish I did. **

**Warning: THIS IS A DARK STORY. SELF-HARM WILL BE A RECURRING THEME IN THE ONE-SHOT. DO NOT READ IF THIS IS TRIGGERING FOR YOU AND DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS TOPIC.**

**No flames please, but tell me what you think: more one-shots? Too dark? Help me improve my writing, I'm a little out of practice!**

Amy Pond was crying. She had planned on taking a quick shower after a chaotic day on an alien planet, but that idea of "quick" had gone out the window almost immediately. Some days, it was hard for her to concentrate on anything, but when she finally slowed down, all of the sadness and memories caught up with her, and sometimes she just couldn't handle it. Some days, she could hardly get out of bed in the mornings. So Amy Pond sat, letting the water rush over her bare skin as she wept.

The Doctor was distracted, as always. Still adapting to his new form, he was slightly clumsy around the TARDIS, tripping over his own two feet as he flipped switches and pressed buttons. When he was satisfied with his work, he took a step back, allowing his eyes to scan over the console. Perfect. In that instant, he realized something: the TARDIS was too quiet. Amy had vanished down one of the halls when they returned, saying she would be back in a few minutes. Without her personality filling the room, the TARDIS seemed empty, even lifeless. Amy was always just _there_, asking questions, humming under her breath, stumbling and falling as she walked, filling the ship with energy. The Doctor glanced around the TARDIS, confirming that however long Amy had been gone was much longer than a few minutes. Curiosity getting the better of him, he trotted down the hallway, wondering what could've distracted his fiery companion for so long.

_Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out._ Amy continued the chant in her head, the chant which she had once been taught by one of her many therapists or counselors when she was young. It was supposed to help her when she had one of her panic attacks, and as silly as it seemed, it did slow down her breathing rate enough for her to gain some of her composure. One glance at her arms sent her back into tears. Angry slashes covered both forearms, creeping past her elbow to the middle of her upper arm. The warm water had stung the wounds at first, but now they were numb, just like the rest of her. Using her right index finger, she traced the marks on her left arm, then repeated the action on her right arm. Tears dripped down her face. Oh, how she hated herself. She wasn't supposed to make mistakes like this. Amy Pond is supposed to be happy, bubbly, perky, and energetic, four things she _definitely_ wasn't.

A brisk knock at the door pulled the redhead roughly from her thoughts.

"Amy? Are you all right?" It was the Doctor. She'd been gone for too long, and now he was worried. "Amelia. Please answer me. Are you okay?" There was a trace of desperation in his voice now.

Taking a deep breath to eliminate the quiver in her voice, Amy replied, "I'm fine Doctor, just give me a few minutes."

Outside the bathroom door, the Doctor hesitated. Something didn't seem right, but he couldn't quite identify it. And besides, he trusted Amy. She wouldn't lie to him if there were something seriously wrong. _Are you sure about that?_ The voice of doubt in his mind asked. Shaking his head slightly, the Doctor turned and wandered off down the hall. He could always check on Amy later.

While the Doctor pondered all of this, Amy finally found the energy to pull herself from the floor into a standing position. After drying herself with one of the towels provided by the TARDIS, she struggled to tug a brush through her matted hair. When all of that was finished, she just stared at herself in the mirror. As she looked, she found the hatred she held towards herself growing, growing until it felt like it would consume her. Tears began to drip from the corners of her eyes as she reached for her blade, the only thing that felt like a friend to her. The silver metal glinted as it kissed her wrist, causing a swell of crimson to blossom from the wound as the words of the people at home came back to haunt her. _Freak. Bitch. Ugly. Fat. _The blade bit deeply into her upper arm. _Whore. Loser. Insane. Mistake. _With warm blood streaming from an assortment of wounds on her arms, Amy allowed herself a slight smile. No matter what happened, her blade would always be there. She would always have something to comfort her. Carefully tucking her blade back into its hiding place under the sink, Amy Pond washed the blood from her arms and slipped into her room to get dressed.

A week later, the Doctor and Amy were running. They had encountered some hostile creatures known as the Zygola, who killed by interpreting a person's (or Time Lord's) greatest fears and weaknesses through one touch, and then using them against the person, driving the victim to insanity until they finally killed themselves. Exhausted, Amy stumbled and fell. "Amy!" The Doctor shouted, ducking the outstretched arms of one of the aliens as he reached for his companion. The Zygola got there first, and an unwanted voice spoke in Amy's mind. _**Little Amelia Pond. The girl who waited. Oh Amelia, the Doctor hasn't ever cared about you. He hates you just as much as all the kids at home did, you're only with him on the TARDIS because he pities you. Poor, poor Amelia. Unwanted Amelia. Amelia the cutter. Worthless Amelia. Wouldn't everything be so much better if you just died? Just kill yourself now. It doesn't take much, just pills and a drink, or deeper cuts, or a cliff, or a gun…just do it Amelia. No one in the world loves you. Die Amelia. End the misery.**_

Amy didn't realize she was crying until she felt the Doctor's hand encircle her wrist. "Come along Pond," he said gently. Amy didn't move, couldn't move, couldn't speak. The Doctor, sensing that something wasn't right, bent down and scooped her up bridal style, then somehow managed to run carrying her. As the Zygola fell back and gave up the chase, the voice in Amy's mind grew weaker. When they reached the TARDIS, the voice, although still present, was only a whisper, still chanting. _**Kill yourself. Kill yourself. Kill yourself. **_Although the voice was faint, it was all Amy could hear, just repeating. The cuts on her arm stung, and she realized some of them had been torn open in her fall and were bleeding again. Caught up with the voice in her head, Amy didn't hear the Doctor calling her name. "Amy. Amy. Amy, please answer me. Amelia! Amelia Jessica Pond!" Finally meeting the Doctor's eyes, Amy could feel tears spilling down her face. "Amy, whatever that thing tells you, it isn't true. You know that, right? The Zygola feed solely on your fears and weaknesses, and whatever it's telling you isn't true."

Amy's body was wracked with sobs. "It says…it says that I should just kill myself now. It says that I should just end it and save myself the emotional pain. It…it says…" She trailed off as a sob escaped from her mouth. "It says that nobody cares. It says that everyone hates me, including…" At this point, Amy was almost too distraught to talk. The Doctor had carried her into the console room of the TARDIS and was looking at her with concern.

"Amy, including who?"

"Including you." And with that, Amy curled her knees to her chest, buried her face against them, and wept.

The Doctor knelt next to her. "Amy, you have to understand that everything that thing told you is a lie. Its purpose is to drive you insane, and you can't let it. Do you understand?" Amy didn't move. "Amy. Listen to me. Do you understand?"

His companion raised her head, and the Doctor could see the desperation on her face. _She's thinking about killing herself._ "Amy, no. You can't think like that." Her face looked so worn and exhausted, like she was the one who was 907, not 21. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved his sonic screwdriver and held it to her forehead, scanning it briefly before tucking it away again. "There. In about twenty-four hours, you'll be right as rain, don't you worry." Amy didn't respond.

The Doctor scrambled around the console, checking a few things before returning to Amy. His companion gave him a hollow look, then resumed her position staring at the floor.

Unsure of what to do, the Doctor cleared his throat awkwardly. "We're just going to drift for a while, give both of us a bit of time to recover. Is that alright?" He paused to consider the question he asked. "Well, it really doesn't matter, because either way, we'll be drifting for the next day or so." Amy didn't react to any of his comments.

The Doctor reached down and took Amy's hand. "Come along Pond," he murmured. "You're going to need to rest to get that Zygola voice out of your head for good." When Amy still didn't move, the Doctor bent down and scooped her up once again.

Amy tried to hide the slight gasp of pain that was emitted when her fresh cuts were pressed harshly against her torso. The Doctor glanced at her. "Amy, are you hurt? Should we head to the medical room instead?" Amy shook her head, although she cradled her arm against her body as though she were trying to shield it. Arriving at the door of her bedroom, the Doctor set her back on her feet.

"Let me see your arm," the Doctor ordered. His voice was deadly serious, and scared Amy slightly.

She shook her head briskly. "Amelia, you need to let me see your arm!"

"No," she replied weakly.

"Amelia –" the Doctor said, a warning tone in his voice, like a parent trying to discipline a stubborn child. Amy tried to escape to her room, but the Doctor grabbed her wrist and in one fluid motion slid off the leather jacket she had been wearing, leaving her in a pastel tank top with all of her cuts exposed. Ashamed, she ducked her head, trying to avoid eye contact with the Doctor.

"Amy…" she finally looked up and saw the Doctor's eyes locked on hers, searching for understanding. "Why?"

Tears burned her eyes and finally flooded over as she flung her arms around the Doctor's neck, sobbing. "Shhhh, Amy, it's alright, you're okay now. But can you tell me why?" With one arm around her shoulder, he guided her so that the two of them were sitting side by side on Amy's bed.

Looking at her arms, Amy let the story spill out, the story she had never told anyone. "I started when I was 13, but there have been times that I've stopped and then started again. When it first started, it was just me trying to cope with life. I thought that I was in control, but I never was. It was an addiction, and once I started, I couldn't stop. Not for long at least. It just let the pain get out, because where I was really hurting was inside, but when I cut, it was a distraction. I thought it helped," she paused to take a shaky breath, fingers dancing lightly over the damage she had inflicted to herself.

"I thought I had it under control, but I didn't. Then later, when I was around fourteen or fifteen, I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression. I got called a freak. Everyone thought I was crazy, but nobody ever realized that they were really killing me. And then my aunt and I started fighting and I was on my own by the time I was 19, expected to make ends meet on my own." Amy stopped again, trying to regulate her breathing. A panic attack was the last thing she needed right now. The Doctor waited patiently as Amy calmed herself down, then listened as she continued. "And then you came back, and I thought everything would get better. And then recently, when you came and asked me to travel with you, that was the best day of my entire life. But I was still so alone inside, you know? It was like I couldn't escape the sadness that was there. I hated myself, so I hurt myself. And then the creature in my head…" Amy shuddered.

The Doctor wrapped his arms around his ginger companion. "Amelia Pond, I am never, ever going to leave you as long as I can help it. Do you understand?"

Amy nodded.

"Good, because it's true," the Doctor told her. "Get some sleep Pond," he told her, tucking her underneath her blankets.

"Will you stay?" Amy asked groggily.

The Doctor just nodded and laid down next to her, not questioning his companion's request. Amy rolled over to face him. "Thank you for everything," she whispered.

The Doctor gave her forehead a quick kiss. "It was my pleasure to help you Amelia Pond."

**Eh, not sure about the ending. It kind of got fluffy, but that's because no matter what happens, I want happy endings for my characters, even if I torture them when I write. I'm weird like that I guess.**

**Anyways, what do you think? I know the end seems like they may be in a relationship, but I tried to make sure that I left some of it up for interpretation, so you could see it as them being in a relationship or just being best friends :)**

**Review and tell me that you missed me? Haha no, I'm just joking, you don't have to tell me you missed me. But please let me know what you think of this story so I can revise it to make it better, and also write new stories that you all like.**

**IMPORTANT NOTICE: If anyone at all who reads this is struggling with self-harm, an eating disorder, or any other issue that I've mentioned struggling with or that you think I can relate to, I want you to DM me if you ever want or need someone to talk to. Also, I'll probably write a story for every single one of you because all I want is to see every single one of my readers be happy and healthy, and I'll do anything I can to help you.**

**XOXO,**

**Morgan**


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